


Readin'

by cowboykylux



Series: If The Creek Don't Rise [45]
Category: Logan Lucky (2017)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Picnics, Slice of Life, Soft Clyde Logan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:33:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25900642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: Y’all had been eager for a picnic; a chance for some sunlight and warm breezes and strawberry popsicle flavored kisses, and finally the weather had obliged. So you had packed a small basket and made the trek all the way to the front yard, all the way to the patch of soft grass at the edge of the property, all the way to a little spot you were sure had to be Heaven -- because Clyde was waitin’ for you there.
Relationships: Clyde Logan/Reader, Clyde Logan/You
Series: If The Creek Don't Rise [45]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/927228
Kudos: 14





	Readin'

“Could you play with my hair, please?” Clyde asked one sunny afternoon, sitting beside you as you laid out on a big check blanket. 

Y’all had been eager for a picnic; a chance for some sunlight and warm breezes and strawberry popsicle flavored kisses, and finally the weather had obliged. So you had packed a small basket and made the trek all the way to the front yard, all the way to the patch of soft grass at the edge of the property, all the way to a little spot you were sure had to be Heaven, because Clyde was waitin’ for you there. 

You had laughed and kissed and ate your popsicles, had kissed the sugar off each other’s lips when the ice started to melt and run, staining Clyde’s white t-shirt pink. You had picked flowers for him, little dandelions that he made a wish on, but wouldn’t tell you what.

And now, you were layin’ face up on the blanket, wearing only as much clothes as needed for decency, desperate to have the sun on your skin after so long of bitter freezing winter cold. 

Now, Clyde was doin’ his best, asking for the things he wanted. Askin’ in that shy way of his, that thoughtful way, the way that you could never resist – not that you ever wanted to. 

“Come rest your head right here.” You smiled and patted your stomach gently, not even opening your eyes against the sun. You felt him shift himself on over, felt him lay down on his side, felt the pleasant weight of his head nestle into your stomach. Your hands immediately went to work, smoothin’ and twirlin’ the dark waves, warmed from the sun. Clyde was a beacon of warmth, you thought. 

“Would you read to me?” You asked, knowing he had brought one of his books from the house, hopin’ he’d grace you with the low timbre of his voice. Somewhere in one of the trees, birds chirped happily, like they were agreein’ with you. 

“Want me to start from the beginnin’?” Clyde asked, nodding against your stomach, making you give a bit of a hum of adoration, he was too sweet. 

“From where you’re at is fine.” You said, carding your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp in that way that made him sigh and release all the tension from those big shoulders of his. 

“Says he foun’ he jus’ got a little piece of a great big soul.” Clyde picked right up from his spot on the page, tucking himself against you as the birds chirped and the sun shone, “Says a wilderness ain’t no good, ‘cause his little piece of a soul wasn’t no good 'less it was with the rest, an’ was whole…” 

He started reading and you let your mind get lost in his words, let his thick accent wrap around you like the kiss of the summer sun and the song of the birds and the fleece of the blanket, and the love of your man.


End file.
